Games
by Linger1536
Summary: There is the sound of scuffling feet as he pushes off the wall he had been leaning against and flops onto the bed, a small sigh escapes him and her lips quirks at the sound of it, he may be good at playing games but she is the expert at not giving in. "I think," he begins in a smug voice, "that you are jealous, my love."


**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars!**

 **So I might have based Anakin slightly on Ragnar from Vikings, but that is just because Ragnar is utterly awesome and he reminds me of what a more mature Anakin would have been like. I'm completely obsessed Star Wars right now, it's a fandom I always come back to and I love, love, love Anakin and Padmé. Since my last story about them was well slightly (or a lot) depressing I figured I'd write something more fun. This is super short and mostly fluff but I would love to hear what you thought about it:)**

He's amused and she's not in the slightest. He cocks his head to the side, blue eyes dancing with laughter as he regards her frazzled state. She fights hard to suppress the urge to roll her eyes and instead lets out an indignant huff before turning her back on him, missing the way his lips curves upwards into a smirk.

She catches up with the other senators and Obi-Wan while he takes his time strolling leisurely behind them with Artoo beeping chipperly next to him.

They come to a halt a few feet away from where the Holoreporters have gathered and Obi-Wan turns around raising an eyebrow questioningly at his former Padwan's obvious delight. He opens his mouth about to order Anakin to deal with the press but the younger man gives him a wicked grin and shakes his head while chuckling.

"Oh no, you don't," he says reading his Master's intentions. "You owe me, Master."

The older man sighs but steps forwards to answer the mass of screaming reporters and the holocameras hone in on him. Anakin slips into the empty space Obi-Wan left next to Padmé, and gives her a quick glance. She is staring straight forward, seemingly entrapped by Obi-Wan's tales of battle but he knows better, he can feel waves of annoyance radiating off of her and a smug feeling of satisfaction comes over him.

He reaches out to her through the force, caressing her neck, the only sign that she feels the touch is in the way her body stiffens. Bail steps forward replacing Obi-Wan's place in front of the press and the other man returns, tiredness clearly written across his face and Anakin feels a slight tinge of worry towards the older man and he silently vows not to taunt him any more for the day, besides he has other more entraining matters on his mind.

They depart their separate ways but not before Anakin sends another soft caress to her hair through the force, he can literally feel her bristling with frustration and annoyance.

She pulls her hair loose from its intricate bun, pulling delicate hair pins from it and dropping them onto the nightstand. She ignores the heat from his gaze and sweeps the hair over her shoulder exposing her neck as she begins to pull a brush through it. There is the sound of scuffling feet as he pushes off the wall he had been leaning against and flops onto the bed, a small sigh escapes him and her lips quirks at the sound of it, he may be good at playing games but she is the expert at not giving in.

"I think," he begins in a smug voice, "that you are jealous, my love."

She puts the brush down and turns around, quirking an eyebrow at him before running a hand through her chocolate brown curls.

"Of Asha Frey," he continues when she turns her back to him and moves to the closet, pulling out a lavender nightgown made of silk.

She tries to mask her emotions as she allows the gown she is wearing to fall to the floor but she cannot keep the scowl off her face. Padmé hadn't been jealous, she had been infuriated when she had seen the way that woman had brushed up against Anakin unabashedly. She had peered up at him with sultry eyes as she giggled loudly at something he said which only served to fuel Padmé's anger. It had taken all of her self-control to remain where she was, grateful for the fact that she had chosen a long sleeved gown which hid the way her hands were bunched up into tight fits. Anakin had thrown her an apologetic glance as he tried to distance himself from the woman but the amusement in his eyes was obvious as he took notice of her raging emotions.

His chuckles fills the room at her stubbornness and this times she does roll her eyes, content with the fact that he can't see it. She pulls the gown over her head and it falls down, hugging her curves before ending above her knees, the back is slightly longer with different layers that goes below the knees, the ends of it brushing against her calves. She gathers her hair to the side and ties it into a loose braid which allows the deep back of the nightgown to come into view.

Padmé smiles coyly at Anakin's sharp intake of breath before slipping into the bed next to him. He is staring at her with hungry eyes that sends shivers down her spine but she refuses to loose this game so instead of pulling him down onto her she leans closer to him and gives his lips a soft peck.

"Goodnight," she murmurs and turns onto her side, facing away from him.

She grins when she hears the low string of huttese cusswords coming from his side of the bed. He doesn't attempt to touch her, too proud to give into the game and she grins to herself letting out a soft sigh, feigning sleep.

After a long silence she hears him whisper in a husky voice: "I've missed you Padmé."

She remains quit, taking even deep breaths in an attempt to keep the illusion of sleep alive.

He moves closer to her and she can feel the heat emitting from him. "I've missed holding you," his breath tickles the skin of her neck, "kissing you." He leaves it at that but doesn't move, remaining close enough for her to feel his breath ghost against her skin but not close enough to touch.

"Oh, Anakin," she exhales deeply before rolling over. She keeps a small amount of space between them as she gazes up at him through heavy lidded eyes. "I love you."

He scoots down so that his face is next to hers and their lips are just an inch away from touching. "I love you," their noses touch slightly as he continues on in a low murmur, "so much."

He's tired of it and so is she, it is not clear who breaks first but soon they find each other locked in a tight embrace. His lips dropping kisses onto her shoulder while her hands runs through his wavy hair, their legs intertwining as they both let out deep sighs of content.


End file.
